


Flying

by ashkatom



Series: 100 Post Ficathon [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkatom/pseuds/ashkatom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psi looks down at you as you press a hand against a full-page illustration of a cavalreaper, winged and fierce. You can almost pretend she's one of your cavalreapers, ready to protect someone, not cull them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

You read a lot of history, searching for scraps of your Alternia-that-never-was. The first time you go to one of the cities, you’re six sweeps old and aching for information. Dolorosa takes the three of you to a library, gives you a stern talk about being polite and unobtrusive, and lets you wander around on your own.

You never even heard what she was saying. Approximately ten minutes after she leaves, you have a fort made of books. There are encyclopaedias, atlases, grimoires, tomes, omnibuses (omnibi?), volumes, compendiums and you are never leaving this fort, it is the best fort.

Psi sits with you, leaning up against one of your pillars of paper. He’s too skinny to knock it over, but you reinforce it anyway, then sprawl against him and page through an encyclopaedia, Alternian military history, A-K. The pictures are brutal and make your stomach flip, and the stories fascinate and horrify you.

You have memories of what these people used to fight for, and it wasn’t this miserable life most of you have to eke out.

“SL?” Psi looks down at you as you press a hand against a full-page illustration of a cavalreaper, winged and fierce. You can almost pretend she’s one of your cavalreapers, ready to protect someone, not cull them. “What’th wrong?”

Disciple finds the both of you then and curls up in your lap, nudging the encyclopaedia until she can see it too. “Purretty,” she says, and gently takes your hand off the page. “Why is she making you sad?”

You press your head back into Psi’s chest and squeeze Disciple’s hand. “Just a memory.”

Psi puts down the novel he was flipping through and drapes an arm over your shoulder. “Tho tell uth,” he says, and Disciple nods in agreement. “That’th what we’re here for.” At your mock-sad look he shrugs. “And I gueth maybe we like you or thomething.”

“But only for the stories,” Disciple adds, and snuggles into your side. “So stop the chitcat and amews us!”

You sigh heavily, then start telling them about cavalreapers. Real cavalreapers, not the sad excuse the Condesce’s turned them into. Sometimes you swear she knows about your Alternia, and is deliberately taking everything good about it and crushing it under her heel.

\--

When Dolorosa comes to collect you and finds you in a tower of books, Psi drooling in your hair and Disciple snoring against your chest, she shakes her head, motions for you to stay where you are, and begins packing the books away with a fond, exasperated expression.

You take one last look at the illustration, then hand over the encyclopaedia and wake up your narcoleptic idiots. Together, you manage to get things back in order in no time at all.

\--

You go back to your hive two nights later, hauling packs full of supplies you can’t get in the desert. Next sweep, you’re definitely striking out, if only so you don’t have to carry all this shit for three nights again. Once is enough. When you’re out of the city limits, Psi goes ahead with the packs, though, and that’s a relief even if you miss him and worry about him.

When you, Disciple, and Dolorosa make it back everyone just collapses in a pile and falls asleep. You’re going to miss having a home to come back to, but as long as you have your lusus and your friends, everything will be fine.

\--

Psi and Disciple wake you up, and you crawl out from under half of Rosa’s shawl to see what they want. Disciple holds her finger up to her lips, and Psi grabs your wrist to tug you outside.

The desert has always been beautiful, especially at night. The only light for any distance around comes from your hive, and with everyone having just woken up, they’re all off. The stars are so bright and close you almost want to reach out and touch them.

Psi wraps one arm around your waist and stands on your right, and Disciple does the same from the left. Before you can do anything, you’re yanked off your feet and into the air, power leaking from Psi’s eyes. You have to swallow a yelp, but Disciple giggles. High-risk adventures like being _seven stories off the ground fuck_ have always been more her cup of tea.

“What,” you finally croak out.

Psi tightens his arm around your waist. “Relax, Jeguth. You know I’m not going to drop you.” You risk turning your head to give him a glare, because that isn’t an explanation. He turns slightly mustard. “Look, with all the thtuff you thaid about cavalreaperth making thingth right. You do that too. And you’re in more danger from it than they ever were, you have an entire world after you.”

Disciple speaks up. “You said they had a motto! Justice rides wings. Well, you can too! Any time you like, beclaws we’ll always be together.”

You turn away from Psi and look up at the stars. After a moment, you wrap your arms around both their shoulders and pull them in, blinking back tears. “You two are completely shameless about lacking sanity globes, aren’t you?”

“Maybe we’re the ones that make sense!”

“And the retht of the world ith inthane.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

\--

A thousand sweeps later, in another universe, you meet a cavalreaper with wings and a legislacerator that rides a dragon.

Both of them wear your sign.

It’s fucking _perfect_.

_  
_


End file.
